Wednesday, 28 March 2018


My gramps says if you want something, you have to take your hands out of your pockets and work hard for it.
After my second day in primary school there was something I wanted.
Over the past six years I've thought about it almost every day, and thought of ways I can work hard to achieve it.

I'm really lucky that I go to a P-12 school, as it means you actually get two chances to achieve the goal: once in your last year of primary school and once in your last year of high school.
Even though I get two chances, I still have to wait a whole six years for each chance to arrive.
It is THAT big!

I've observed successful recipients almost every day. I've analysed their hard work, their behaviour, their attitudes, their friends, their approaches and their dedication. I've talked it over with my family, going through all the different elements of the achievement and comparing my own work, attitudes and behaviours to my role models. I know I'm right for this!

I'll have some stiff competition though, as I know one of my best friends really wants the honour as well. This isn't going to be easy.
What none of the other students know though, is that I have a secret weapon. You see, I've taken my study way beyond anything they could imagine. I've memorised every fact and every example, I even know all the timetables! I know more than any other student in year six could possibly believe. I know my opponents too. I know that they have only just started studying, whereas I have been dedicated to it for the past six years! I've even kept up my study on family holidays.

When the announcement day comes, I'm incredibly nervous. My heart is racing and my mind is wondering if all the study has been worth it. I'm starting to sweat as I think about all the possible outcomes. What if I am left waiting another six whole years for my next chance!? How will I get through all of this year, knowing I was unsuccessful and having to see the badge pinned to the chest of another student?

I make sure I take my hands out of my pockets for the announcement.
I'm having trouble hearing anything but my own heart beating faster and louder with anticipation. 'Thump, thump, thump.'
Principal Leed takes his position in front of the entire assembly. 'Thump, thump, thump.'
He adjusts his tie and welcomes everyone to the awards ceremony. 'Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump.'
He does the usual speech about not everyone being able to be awarded the prestigious positions being announced today but congratulates everyone on their work so far. 'Thump, thump, thump.'
In his sea of words and explanations, I finally hear the words "without further ado, I will announce the successful recipient from year six..."
All of a sudden, it is like my heart stops beating and my hearing is turned up on high alert. I can hear the other students shuffling their feet, I can hear people leaning over and whispering their predictions to their friends, I can even hear a baby cough in the parent section at the back of the assembly hall.
And then, everything goes silent and I hear Mr Leed saying my name. Yes, MY name!

After six years of studying every mirror, every door, every seat. After six years of memorising every timetable, every driver name and every stop. And after six years of watching the role call, the problem solving and the special meeting with the coordinator, I have finally been announced as bus captain for all of this year!

Tuesday, 27 March 2018


Last week,
when I came here
I begrudgingly shared
my personal toilet time
with a nosy cricket.

This week,
a centipede
has impeded
my privacy.

I wonder if
next week
I will be granted
the dignity
of using the bathroom
the prying eyes
of an unwelcome
bathroom buddy.